Zili ascended the throne under the era name Longxing, styled himself Prince Li. On the twenty-sixth day of the fourth month, the first year of Longxing of Ning, envoys from the four nations of Chen, Qi, An, and Xia arrived in the Ning capital of Fengcheng to pay respects at the new emperor’s enthronement.
Fengcheng had regained its former prosperity since Prince Li’s ascension. On the day the four nations’ envoys entered the city, banners fluttered throughout, and the common people lined the streets in welcome. Unlike the other three nations, the An envoys traveled by sea and then by river, their ships sailing up the Duning River directly to the docks at Fengcheng’s southern gate. An Guo lay to the north, its people long accustomed to a harsh, cold land. Chancellor Tie Han personally led the delegation, both to celebrate Prince Li’s enthronement and to seek water and land trade routes, hoping to purchase Ning’s grain and iron to strengthen An Guo’s national power.
As the envoy ships entered the Duning River and traveled through Ning territory, seeing the lush greenery, fertile soil, and cooking smoke rising from both banks, the people warm and welcoming, Chancellor Tie couldn’t help but envy Ning’s prosperity. By the time they were a hundred li from Fengcheng, troops already lined the route in escort, order maintained impeccably, and he sighed again at Ning’s military strength. He silently thought it fortunate that the Black Mountain forest lay as a natural barrier between An Guo and Ning—had the terrain been open plains instead, it would have been cause for real concern. He resolved that this visit would be devoted to forging an alliance with Ning, friendship for generations to come.
Qi Guo was a grassland kingdom, composed mostly of tribes; decades of recovery and growth had already given it the bearing of a rising power. The Qi king’s own younger brother, Prince Mu, who held the position of supreme marshal of the nation’s armed forces, had requested to lead this delegation to Ning, partly with the intent of personally surveying the terrain. Upon entering the border city, Gu Tianxiang personally welcomed the Right Flank Army in reception, clad entirely in white armor, cool and refined in bearing, escorting them the entire way to Fengcheng. Prince Mu, knowing him to be the empress’s own brother and thus certain to be the first line of resistance should war ever come with Ning, paid him extra attention, observing him coldly and carefully.
Chen Guo’s second prince, Chu Nan, led his delegation across the Han River; looking up at the gates of Linnan City, bitter resentment surged in his heart once more. Past Linnan City, beneath Chu Nan’s thick brows, a greedy, vicious gleam flashed as he gazed at the vast fertile plains before him. He gave a cold snort, thinking to himself—one day, this land would surely be added to Chen Guo’s territory.
Xia Guo lay in the mountainous southwest, the weakest of the four nations. This time, the Xia king himself had come in person. Upon entering Fengcheng, each of the four delegations retired to their respective embassies to rest.
That evening, Ning’s court officials proclaimed that Prince Li would host a banquet at the palace to welcome the four nations’ envoys.
The great palace gates swung slowly open. The four delegations crossed the jade bridge beyond the gates and were carried by soft palanquins to Yixin Hall. This hall was, aside from the Golden Hall, the largest palace building in the royal complex, reserved specifically for entertaining foreign delegations or grand court banquets.
Within Yixin Hall stood nine towering dragon-coiled candle stands, each roughly two zhang tall, each fitted with eighty-one red candles. From the ceiling hung nine hundred and ninety palace lanterns, and along the walls ran rows of oil lamps, all lit together, illuminating Yixin Hall as bright as day.
From the hall’s entrance to its interior, spring flowers were arranged everywhere, and dragon-saliva incense burned in bronze tripods. Young, beautiful palace maids and attendants, carefully selected, moved gracefully among the guests.
The chief officials of the four delegations sat on either side, flanking the throne. Below sat Ning’s court ministers, accompanying the delegation members. Qing Prince Liu Jian had been summoned to the palace by decree, and Zili said: “Elder Brother has handled the four nations’ affairs for many years. Zili’s experience is limited—I humbly ask Elder Brother to attend tonight’s banquet.”
Liu Jian glanced behind him—what a magnificent banquet! From where he sat, he could no longer make out the officials seated at the far end of the hall. He turned his head to look up at the throne above. That dragon throne should rightfully have been his. Now, seated in the position just below it—while technically second only to the king in status—he felt keenly humiliated. Carefully hiding this emotion, Liu Jian exchanged pleasantries with the four nations’ envoys, smiling. His gaze happened to meet the Xia king’s, and suspicion stirred in his heart; he quickly looked away. Suddenly understanding something, a surge of secret joy rose within him, and warmth spread across his face, as if the coup attempt a month ago had never happened at all.
Prince Mu watched Liu Jian with particular interest. This deposed crown prince might yet prove useful.
Chu Nan had already spotted Liu Jue and Gu Tianxiang seated diagonally across from him. An involuntary, piercing glare shot from his eyes. Liu Jue noticed him too, smiling and cupping his hands in greeting. Chu Nan snorted through his nose and turned his head away.
Liu Jue was waiting. Those present tonight who could attend were Ning’s imperial relatives and officials of the third rank and above. He glanced, seemingly by chance, toward the far end of the hall. War Ministry Vice Minister Cheng Shiyue sat smiling, attending the An delegation. His gaze flickered, blinking three times.
Liu Jue’s eyes moved again to Chu Nan, the corner of his mouth curling into a smile.
Was he mocking him? Chu Nan stared fixedly at Liu Jue, anger simmering—the defeat at Linnan City, which forced Chen Guo to pay annual tribute, was to him an unbearable humiliation.
At that moment, bells rang and music swelled together. A palace attendant announced loudly: “Prince Li has arrived!”
Everyone rose from their seats in salute: “Welcome, Your Majesty!”
Zili wore a robe embroidered with nine coiling dragons, a jeweled crown upon his head, a jade belt at his waist. His bearing extraordinary, he made his way gracefully into Yixin Hall, a warm smile on his young face. Taking his seat on the throne, he spread his hands: “Honored envoys, no need for such formality. Rise, all of you!”
“Thank you, Your Majesty!”
The uniform response rang out, a sea of heads bowed, the farthest seats stretching all the way to the hall’s entrance, faces no longer distinguishable—only he himself stood high above them all, the focus of every eye. A wave of satisfaction rose in Zili’s heart. Small wonder that men would pile up corpses by the million, turn rivers to blood, and still press forward one after another in pursuit of the throne—all for this, this exquisite feeling of sovereignty! He spoke calmly, his tone gentle: “Honored envoys, having traveled so far, allow this king to offer you a toast!”
His manner was affable, his words carrying a touch of modesty. An Chancellor Tie Han’s heart lifted with pleasure—he’d long heard Prince Li was approachable and kind, and seeing it now for himself, it proved true. Negotiations for an alliance, for trade in goods, seemed likely to go smoothly, and joy already showed in his eyes. Qi’s Prince Mu smiled to himself—a green, inexperienced boy, newly enthroned, nothing more than a bookish scholar. Ning was in peril! Chu Nan tossed back the wine in his cup, silently thinking that the fifteen cities of the south would inevitably belong to Chen Guo. The Xia king wore an inscrutable expression, smiling faintly as he drank.
After a moment, the envoys brought forward their tribute gifts. Attendants read out the long list of offerings in ringing voices. An Guo presented a pearl the size of a large bowl; when the fragrant wood box was opened, a beam of light shot out. Tie Han said proudly: “This pearl is a treasure found once in a thousand years, retrieved by chance by fishermen from a giant clam at the bottom of the Star Moon Sea. Hung overhead, it lights an entire room!”
Zili wore a faint smile, a flash of genuine admiration crossing his eyes at the sight of the pearl: “Such a treasure—An Guo has shown great thoughtfulness!”
Prince Mu felt inward disdain—so Prince Li was a man drawn to wealth after all! He’d see that brilliance outshone shortly. He clapped his hands, and a figure entered from outside the hall, wrapped entirely in a cloak. Prince Mu laughed heartily: “Qi Guo also offers a pearl, Your Majesty—but the one this king presents is the brightest pearl upon the grasslands!”
As the words left his mouth, the cloak was thrown back, revealing a beauty. Her figure was slender and graceful, her long hair braided into a single plait trailing down to her ankles, swaying as she moved, making her delicate ankles all the more striking. A white gauze veil covered her face, leaving only her eyes visible—as her gaze shifted, the hall’s candlelight seemed to pour entirely into those deep eyes, glittering and dazzling.
Zili’s heart stirred—how much those eyes resembled A’Luo’s!
Prince Mu clapped again, and a group of women draped in light gauze entered from outside, their voices rising in melodious song, small drums beating rhythm in their hands. The beauty’s form turned, the white gauze skirt around her body unfurling layer by layer like petals blooming, and she spun in an unending dance, this flower opening ever wider, drifting little by little toward Zili. Two zhang from him, the drumming stopped, and the beauty knelt gracefully to the floor, her skirts pooling around her, her delicate frame trembling faintly—the flower now fully bloomed, waiting only to be plucked by Zili.
The entire hall watched, transfixed; those with weaker self-control could barely restrain themselves from rushing forward to gather her into their arms. Even Liu Jian was momentarily stunned—he’d never imagined such a crude, remote land as the grasslands could produce so delicate a flower!
The beauty slowly raised her head, the veil slipping from her face to reveal features of flawless perfection. Zili stared fixedly at those eyes. So alike! A’Luo, to think there existed in this world another pair of eyes so like yours—he found himself momentarily entranced.
Liu Jian, seated just below Zili, also saw those eyes so strikingly like A’Luo’s. Something stirred in his heart, and he raised his cup toward the beauty with a smile.
Prince Mu was very pleased—thoroughly pleased with Prince Li’s expression! Thoroughly pleased with Qing Prince Liu Jian’s reaction!
An attendant coughed lightly. Zili came back to himself and laughed heartily: “Such a pearl, such a beauty! Let us call this beauty Mingzhu, then—Pearl.”
“Your Majesty is wise. This beauty is indeed named Mingzhu—she is our Qi Guo’s Princess Mingzhu!”
Zili’s heart gave a jolt of alarm—sending a princess to seek marriage alliance? Did they wish for peace, or did they mean to beguile him? He continued smiling: “Ten thousand li from home, left alone in Ning—I fear it would wrong the princess. Such a pearl left to gather dust—this king cannot bear it!”
Mingzhu raised her face to look at the young Prince Li, then glanced sideways at the Qing Prince seated nearby, watching her with a smile. A coquettish smile crossed her lips, and she lowered her head deeply.
“Rise, Princess!” Zili said gently.
Mingzhu murmured her thanks and slowly rose, supported by an attendant’s hand. Whether from kneeling too long in the dance or by deliberate design, her body swayed unsteadily as she stood. Liu Jian’s brow furrowed slightly.
Mingzhu steadied herself against the attendant, her voice soft with a touch of wounded charm: “Mingzhu has admired Ning’s splendor since childhood. Would Your Majesty truly refuse to grant Mingzhu’s wish?”
Zili glanced sidelong at Liu Jian, not missing the flash of interest in his brother’s eyes when he’d first seen Mingzhu. Zili smiled: “Since that’s the case—Prince Mu, I grant Princess Mingzhu in marriage to Ning’s Qing Prince as principal consort. I trust this won’t wrong the princess.”
Prince Mu laughed heartily: “Whatever Your Majesty decides!”
Liu Jian couldn’t tell whether to feel shock or joy, worry or resignation—he could only prostrate himself in thanks. He’d noticed the flash in Mingzhu’s eyes when she looked at him, sensed she might have the power to move Zili’s heart—yet in the blink of an eye, Zili had handed her to him instead. He thought of Qinglei, who wished so earnestly to become his principal consort—they’d been discussing these very days petitioning the crown to formally elevate her—and now he’d be bringing home a princess besides, and not just any princess, but the one from Qi Guo, the most ambitious of the four nations. Was Zili trying to harm him, or help him? What exactly was he scheming? Liu Jian made polite conversation with the surrounding envoys, his mind racing through one thought after another.
Afterward, Chen Guo and Xia Guo presented their own gifts in turn. Zili accepted them all graciously, and with a light clap of his hands, music rose throughout Yixin Hall. Court dancers swept gracefully into the hall.
Amid the laughter and conversation filling the hall, no one noticed that Cheng Shiyue had slipped away from his seat at the far end.
Chu Nan raised his cup directly toward Liu Jue: “Prince Pingnan is a man of great valor—this prince offers you a toast!”
Liu Jue laughed lightly: “Second Prince Chu Nan managed to land a blade on this prince—now that truly is fine swordsmanship.” He raised his cup as if to drink, then paused: “Though I still lost, in the end.”
“You!” Anger flared in Chu Nan. He glanced sidelong at Liu Jue: “This prince will remain in Fengcheng another two months, admiring the splendor of your great nation. When time permits, I’d still like to exchange a few moves with Prince Pingnan.”
“No need for exchanges—I expect the second prince will find himself too entangled in Fengcheng’s tender pleasures to spare the effort,” Liu Jue teased mockingly. In his mind, he was quietly calculating timing—provoking this Chen prince to anger now meant he could slip away before the banquet ended; once it concluded, escape would be far harder.
Sure enough, the notoriously proud Chu Nan had already flared with anger, snapping: “Prince Pingnan, do you dare show contempt for this prince?”
“And if I do? Wasn’t it Chen Guo that suffered great defeat, after trying to seize our territory? What became of that?”
Liu Jue’s words came out low and cutting. Zili, watching from a distance, caught only the tension building between the two men, unable to hear the words exchanged, and saw Chu Nan’s face flush red as if about to explode. He thought this Chen prince, skilled in combat and fiercely proud, having lost to both Liu Jue and Gu Tianxiang, surely harbored resentment. But such an occasion could not tolerate a public confrontation between the two, so he said with a smile: “Second Prince, as the saying goes, disputes forge friendship. Our Prince Pingnan and Loyal-and-Brave Duke are both men of forthright character—Second Prince, do stay in Fengcheng a while and get to know them better!”
Chu Nan, cold-faced, raised his cup toward Liu Jue in challenge. Liu Jue curled his lip and turned his head away. Chu Nan leapt to his feet, pointing at Liu Jue: “This prince is only showing His Majesty respect—if your martial skill were truly so great, you wouldn’t have taken a wound from this prince’s blade!”
Liu Jue seized the opportunity, feigning great fury, kneeling before Zili: “This subject requests permission to cross blades with Second Prince Chu Nan once more—I beg Your Majesty’s approval!”
Zili laughed: “Once the banquet concludes, you two may arrange your own time. Yunzhi.” His tone already carried authority—meaning, this is a state banquet for foreign envoys, don’t you dare ruin it for me!
Liu Jue shot Chu Nan a fierce glare. Returning to his seat, he drank several cups moodily. He bowed to Zili: “This subject’s tolerance for wine is poor—fearing further loss of composure, I beg Your Majesty’s leave to withdraw early.”
The fire in his heart needed venting; Liu Jue, accustomed to having his own way, naturally couldn’t swallow this insult easily. Zili smiled faintly: “Prince Pingnan, go rest well. Another day, you and Second Prince Chu Nan may have your match—this king will personally judge it!”
Liu Jue bowed all around the hall and departed, shooting one last glare at Chu Nan on his way out. Chu Nan snorted and turned his head away as well.
Leaving Yixin Hall, Liu Jue moved swiftly out of the palace. Outside the palace gates, Ming Yin was already waiting. The moment he saw Liu Jue, the two of them raced off together toward the western city gate. The guards on duty there that night had all been replaced with Liu Jue’s own men; seeing the two approach, they quickly opened the gate, and both figures vanished instantly into the night.
Seated at the far end of the hall, Cheng Shiyue had slipped away from the banquet unnoticed. Reaching a dark corner, he changed into night-travel garb, becoming once more the shadow known as Anye.